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The story “Cami's Story" is the fanfiction intellectual property of Kellan Meig'h and may not be reposted, transmitted or copied and redistributed without expressed written permission. All characters are the property of Kellan Meig'h unless otherwise noted and may not be used without permission. Blue Diamond, Tigre, Cheshire, Chili, ICON, Foxforce, Firefox, Shadowfox, Silverfox and Technofox are the properties of Dynotaku (visual arts) that inspired the fanfictions by Nathan Cowan (written works). Any resemblance to any human person or chimera, whether living, dead or reprogrammed is purely coincidental.

“ Cami's Story"

by Kellan Meig'h

Copyright© 2008 - 2017

All Rights Reserved both USA and World

Cami Carter looked up at the lady standing behind the counter, the one that had given her this job application to fill out. There were a number of strange questions on this form, such as the one she was currently working on. Ms. Hawthorn had told her just to do the best that she could and return the application to her when she was done.

“Are you currently or have formerly been employed by any branch of a military unit?" the question asked.

She answered quite quickly, “Australian Army, Honorably Discharged, Rank of Staff Sergeant." in her elegant handwriting. Looking at her script, she thought about the silver fox vixen that had served with her in Afghanistan. She didn't have human-style hands like Indiana Mil-Tec had given Cami's model. The vixen, a North American Biotech Reynard Mark 9D, had trouble with a lot of things that weren't made for a chimera due to her somewhat stubby fingers with very prominent claws that weren't retractable. Cami's model had been given retractable claws like a feline, allowing her to have a very dexterous but deadly hand.

“Have you recently been tested for STDs?" the next question asked.

“Yes, current card still valid for two more months." she answered.

Almost eight years ago, that would have been the last thing on her mind as she went through Boot Camp at Brandon Biotech's military training center. Cami and five more specially outfitted chimera of her model had been sent there by her creators, Indiana Mil-Tec, to be trained for close quarters combat in an urban setting.

“What are you here for, Maggot?" the drill instructor bellowed in her face, trying to rattle her on her first day of training.

“Sir! I am here to learn how to cover my butt and stay alive while I kill insurgents, Sir!" she yelled back, catching him off guard.

“Who told you to say that, Maggot?!?" the DI screamed in her face. He was a tough little man, not more than five foot six or so. She towered over him in her combat boots at just slightly over six feet tall and one hundred ninety-five pounds, her target combat weight. She had the strength and endurance to carry almost six hundred pounds of weapon and gear into battle so this puny human before her offered no challenge. She let him know what she had been trained to think.

“Sir! I cannot fight if I am dead, Sir! I must learn to stay alive while I fight effectively, Sir! To be effective, I must become one with my rotary flechette rifle, Sir!" she replied.

“Are you trying to impress me with that canned drivel, Maggot?" the DI shouted, getting right up in front of her. “I think you might prefer a roll in the hay with me, Scumbag!"

“Sir! I wouldn't advise that, Sir!" she shouted back as a feral gleam came to her eyes. “My training would allow me to tear you in half with my bare hands for threatening my safety, Sir!"

“Would you like to try to kill me, you scum-sucking sorry excuse for cannon fodder?" The drill Instructor asked, looking her directly in the eyes.

“No Sir! I want to learn to fight from you, Sir!" she shouted as she stood ramrod straight.

“Listen here, Recruit. I appreciate your fire but we need to be just a little bit looser than you're being right now. Drop the 'Sir' business and call me Gunny Torkelsen."

“Yes, Gunny Torkelsen."

“What's your name, Recruit?" he asked in a normal tone of voice as he looked at his clipboard.

“Recruit Camille Ann Carter, Gunny Torkelsen."

“Mmm, you know what, I'm gonna call you Cami. Sounds just a little tougher than Camille," he commented, checking her name off the list. “Grab your gear and follow me so I can show you to your barracks."

***

Cami gave the application back to Ms. Hawthorn, who instructed her to wait patiently for someone to interview her. She thanked the receptionist and returned to the couch, making herself comfortable while she waited. Being able to wait for something to happen was a trait she had learned in the military. Everything about the military was 'hurry up and wait'. Such as was her training in boot camp.

“Sorry to take so long to find this," the Corporal stated as he came back into the VR room. He had finally located a long term breathing/feeding insert that would fit her unique physiology. She helped him to get it into her throat, tipping her head up to allow the shorter appendage on the tubular silicone device to go down her trachea, past her vocal cords. Cami was mindful to get her tongue into the cavity meant for that purpose while the insert slipped home. She gripped the edges of the part that extended past her mouth, wiggling it just a bit to get her teeth into the grooves properly. The Corporal then inflated the longer portion that was down into her esophagus and the shorter breathing tube in her trachea, sealing it to her body. That would keep stomach fluids and the VR liquid out of her lungs.

She had a forty-eight hour stint in the VR tube ahead of her, to learn some basic close quarters urban fighting tactics. This insert would allow her to breathe and be fed to keep her strength up while all of this was going on. Cami climbed up the steps, then sat on the edge of the tube while she was hooked up to the air and feeding hoses then she assisted with putting on her VR helmet properly.

Slipping down into the tube, she squatted slightly to grasp the elastic straps that she attached to her harness at her waist, then reaching over her head to attach two more elastics to her harness at her shoulders. These straps would hold her centered in the tube while she was being trained. Cami then gave the technician the thumbs up to close her inside and fill the tube with VR liquid.

***

Cami watched the customers coming into the lobby, some using a card to check themselves in, others having to fill out a lot of paperwork for some reason. She wondered what this place was like; was it a good place to work or would it be a hellhole? She thought back to her fourth tour in Afghanistan, serving in an Urban Insurgent Neutralization Squad. That was a hellhole.

“Carter! Get behind that car!" her squad leader directed, trying to get them closer to their objective. Enemy forces were using a disabled tank as a shield to fire mortars and grenades at the advancing coalition forces. Her squad members were laying down some withering suppression fire for her so she could move from an alleyway to a point close enough to do some damage with her flechette rifle.

She rolled the last few feet, coming up to a kneeling position so she could look through the car's blown out windows and see where she had ended up in relationship to the tank. Aiming the eight barrel rotary Gatling gun around the back of the car at the tank, low, Cami squeezed the trigger just enough to get a redtooth sight picture on her visual cortex, smiling when she observed feet under the tank. Easy pickings. A one-hundred round burst of 3.55 millimeter flechettes, 'skipped' under the tank left at least three bodies on the ground, writhing in pain. It's hard to stand without functioning feet and ankles.

A noise off to her left garnered her attention, a small silver device with that familiar red stripe around its body, bouncing down the street. An EMP grenade. She jammed herself in between the car she was using for a shield and the wall next to it, trying to protect herself from the electro-magnetic pulse and shrapnel it would give off.

The grenade made more of a 'pop' like a firecracker when it exploded but it gave the desired effect; it shut down Cami's processor, rendering her unable to communicate without speaking or use her wi-fi to connect to the rifle's gunsight.

“Sir! Processor's down!" she shouted at her radio's backup microphone attached to the shoulder epaulet of her BDU battle blouse.

“Cami, don't panic!" he replied. “Take your satchel charge and drop it in their laps."

“Sir, I need direction," she shot back, getting the charge set to detonate on contact with a firm object.

“Cami, I can see you from my position. Point with your left hand and I'll tell you when you're pointing where I want that charge."

“Yes Sir, Lieutenant," she replied out of respect. She pointed in the direction she thought they were, waiting for direction.

“To your left, about five degrees."

She make an adjustment, then again, finally pointing where their leader thought the charge needed to be.

“OK, send that bad boy about forty-five yards that way," the commander told her, watching Cami wing that charge through the air by the straps to drop behind the tank. Cami and her commander both observed the bag being hit on the corners by the insurgent's fire but they failed at prematurely detonating it before impact. Corporal Carter was rewarded by the sight of a sandal-clad foot landing in the street behind her after the resulting explosion.

“Cami? Are you okay?" her commander asked as he ran up to her position, helping her to stand while her squad members swept the area past the tank for any unfortunate survivors.

“I think I'm okay except my processor is down," she replied, taking her backpack flechette magazine off and setting it on the ground. “Help me check for injuries, Sir?"

“Sure, Cami," he replied, running his hands down her back, then the back of her legs, waiting for her to complain while she checked her front in the same manner.

“I seem to be uninjured, Sir." the female wolverine chimera finally replied.

The squad commander took a small box out of his belt pouch, turned it on and programmed it for her.

“What is it Cami, 5022 or 5027?" he asked. “I can't seem to remember all of these codes."

“Um, no, use 5030. Full reboot, Sir. I have no image at all from my processor being painted on my visual cortex."

He handed her the box, which she held over her head with her left hand and pressed the button. She watched her visual display 'wink' at her for just a second, then go out. Several more attempts resulted in the same net effect; her processor wouldn't reboot.

“It's down for good, Sir," she said dejectedly, handing him back the box, then sitting down on the bumper of the car she had used for a shield. She felt she was no more useful now than a human soldier without her processor. She waited patiently while her commander made a call for support, checking the remaining round level in her rifle's magazine in the meantime.

“Cami, there's a Medivac chopper coming for you. They'll get you back to one hundred percent at the field hospital." he told her.

“Thank you, Sir." she said quietly. She really didn't want to leave her squad, her family in a way.

“Cami, get well. I need you back just as soon as possible." he told her, giving her a hug.

“Yes, Sir. I'll be back as soon as I can."

***

A man came out of the hallway by the front desk and walked over to her with her paperwork in his hand. She thought this didn't look so good for her at the moment. Maybe they wouldn't hire her after all.

“Miss Carter?" he asked, stopping in front of her.

“That's me, Sir." she replied, standing up and assuming a relaxed 'Parade Rest' stance.

“Miss Carter, your application has a few issues. First off, you didn't check off whether or not you're self-owning."

“Sir, I'm self-owning. I have my paperwork with me in case you need it."

“No, I don't need it right now. Um, the other thing; you didn't list a home or contact address on your paperwork."

That question made the femme wolverine chimera look at the floor and swallow hard. The fact that she would have to be honest with them about her situation right now upset her.

“Sir, I'm ashamed to admit it but I'm homeless. I haven't had a real place to live for almost a year."

The man nodded, writing down something on a post-it note stuck to the top sheet.

“Well, don't be ashamed Miss Carter, it happens to the best of us. Maybe you won't have to worry about that after today."

The man headed back the way he came, so she sat back down to wait. The femme wolverine thought back to that day when her processor was shut down so rudely by an insurgent's EMP grenade. She remembered waking up in the field hospital late that evening, still somewhat out of it from the anesthesia.

“Sergeant Camille Carter? Can you hear my voice?" the surgeon asked, shining a light in her eyes to check her pupils for a proper reaction.

“I can hear you just fine but you've got my rank wrong," she replied softly, noting her processor was going through a diagnostic test routine after a hard reboot.

“No, you were field promoted due to your selfless actions in that last engagement you were in." the doctor corrected her.

“What did you have to do to fix the problem?" she asked, concerned she wouldn't be allowed to go back into battle after recovering. War was her life and she didn't want that taken away from her.

“We replaced your CPU, hon. That grenade impulse must have fried it." He checked her pulse again, then motioned for her to be wheeled out of post-op.

“How are you feeling, Camille?" the field nurse asked while she was moving the recovering femme to a regular room.

“I've felt better," Cami replied. Her head was hurting from the surgery to open her scalp and work on her processor. Thankfully it was located outside her skull under a removable composite plate, rather than inside her skull like a few early chimera designs that were used by the military. Those chimerae also didn't have a full organic brain like her, either. Her kind, a variation on a licensed design from Brandon Biotech, were not incapacitated by the loss of their processors.

“Would you like something for the pain?" the nurse asked.

“Please, Ma'am. My head hurts a bit, most likely from the surgery and getting used to the new CPU."

The nurse left the room, then returned shortly with a small cup with some pills in it. Cami took the medication offered, downing them with the water provided. She smiled slightly as the drugs took effect, dulling the pain and letting her slip off into some much-needed sleep.

***

Cami was startled momentarily by the appearance of her friend, Alan Samick. He was the one that had been helping her for almost a year, paying her under the table to do some janitorial work at his auto parts store. He sat down beside her, taking her hand in his.

“Cami, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, waiting for her to answer.

“Um, yeah, I do. I need a regular job, Alan." she replied. What she really wanted to say was she needed a roof over her head, a regular bed to sleep in and proper food in her belly.

“I heard they make you sign an extended work contract here," Alan commented, offering her a sip of his ice-cold soda that he had purchased at the snack bar in the main concourse. Cami accepted the refreshment, savoring the flavors she tasted.

“I don't care if I have to sign a contract for work, Alan. I know you're looking out for me but I need to do this. I need to stand on my own two feet for a change." she pointed out.

She thought back to the last month she spent in the military and the fact that she almost gotten herself killed over some false information given her at the field hospital.

“Cami! What in the hell is wrong with you?!? Have you finally gone insane???" her lieutenant blurted out loudly as he checked her over for injuries. “Staff Sergeant Carter, do you have some sort of a death wish you want to tell me about?!?"

It was a minor miracle she hadn't taken a single round to an unprotected area of her body during the brief but frightening engagement. The heavy composite trauma plates on her frontal armor had more than a dozen projectile strike marks on them, large caliber. The two enemy machine gunners she had taken out to end the engagement looked more like pincushions or voodoo dolls, however. Cami had hit them with over one thousand flechettes at a very close range, close enough that she was covered in blood. Their blood. She had literally ran down the barrel of a machine gun emplacement to neutralize it, much to her commander's chagrin.

“Cami, what has gotten into you?" her commander asked, concerned about her mental stability. It was not uncommon for a chimera to lose it during battle, just like a human. “You have almost deliberately tried to get yourself killed several times now, to the point that I'm almost afraid to look and see what's happened after you've gotten going in a fire fight. What in the hell is wrong, Cami? I'm your CO so I need to know what's causing you to act this way."

“Sir, it doesn't matter if I live or not any longer." she replied sullenly. “When I get out, they will auction me off as damaged goods and I'll end up in some screwed up job with some asshole owning me."

“Cami! You have a one hundred percent combat rating! You will be given your ownership if you just stay in the back, keep your head down for twenty-five more days and get out of this hellhole in one piece!" he admonished her.

She took off her helmet and readjusted the stainless steel mesh balaclava that she now wore underneath it to protect her processor from EMP damage. She wiped the blood off of her lid on her pants leg and put it back on, putting the chin strap back in place and snugging it.

“Sir, I was told my CPU replacement disqualified me," she related after an awkward silence, giving her commander a pensive smile as she picked up her rifle and rested the barrels on her shoulder. “I asked several doctors and they all said the same thing."

“Cami, I have that section of the regulations right here," he told her as he took a laminated sheet out of his belt pouch. “I keep it handy for situations just like this. Read it for yourself." He handed it to her and stepped back, crossing his arms while she read the page in question.

Section 2276.02.a) Those chimerae that serve honorably and complete their five (5) years of service without losing their one-hundred percent (100%) combat rating will be given their unconditional ownership and an Honorable Discharge. Any and all injuries that do not reduce that one-hundred percent (100%) rating will be not be counted in the exit evaluation of said soldiers. Furthermore, all chimerae that receive an Honorable Discharge will be eligible for all combat pay accrued and full Veteran's Benefits, commensurate with their years of service to Her Royal Majesty's Australian Army.

“Cami, I'm not sure who fed you that line of BS," the Lieutenant stated, waiting for it to sink into her head. “You're almost out of here, a true survivor of this blasted pile-of-shit war, and you just ran down the sights of a machine gun nest? Hon, please, just step to the rear and cover our asses for a while."

“Sir, that's not right," she finally stated after reading the sheet given her. “They left me thinking I was damaged goods to be disposed of as they saw fit!" she added, starting to get angry about it. “Now I'll be discharged but what will I do for a job? I'm a soldier with death and destruction as my skill set!"

“You might make a very good security specialist for some company," he suggested as he put the sheet away. “I know whatever you decide to do, you will be first rate at it." He thought about it for a moment, then made a call for supplies to be brought out to their fire base. “I'm switching you to a 5.56 millimeter Smith and Wesson Mk. 139A mini-gun. That way, you can cover our asses from the back of the line."

***

Cami looked up to see a lioness, most likely a Golemtech design, pushing a cart with a coffee urn and some snacks on it. She was dressed in a white shirt, pants and apron, starched to perfection. The femme swapped out the urns on the counter and put the snacks on a handy platter, arranging them for an aesthetic appearance. The lady behind the desk got Cami's attention, pointing to the treats that had been put out.

Alan passed on the snacks offered but Cami was still a little bit hungry. Giving in to her stomach's pangs, she got up and retrieved a donut, plain and a cup of coffee. While she was enjoying her light repast, she observed a tall, pale gray male equine chimera walk by.

He nodded curtly at her, giving her a small smile as he fumbled with his ID badge that he was trying to clip to his shirt collar while he headed for the front doors. He politely held the door for a customer coming in, then crossed the lot to get into a very large four-door pickup truck and drive around the corner of the building, out of her line of sight.

Noting that the huge equine was neatly dressed, she looked down at her clothes, clean but well-worn. She was wearing a pale pink blouse that had one mismatched button on it and a pair of Levi's that had very little life left in them. They were unfortunately the best she had that hadn't been stolen from her makeshift home behind Alan's business.

She thought back to her last week in the service before her separation day when they tried to help her get settled into everyday life, giving her a wardrobe of clothes to wear that would help her to find employment in a civilian world. She had also done some additional VR to gain some employable skill sets besides killing. She smiled wistfully at the memory of that exit interview.

“Cami, I still think your best bet is to work in security. You will be accepted more readily in that arena, hon." the interviewer, a graying human female stated. “I know you can cook very well but you would have a limited opportunity for employment in that field. Stick with security."

“Ma'am, will I be given a list of employers that might hire me?" Cami asked out of concern.

“We will make sure that an employer will hire you if we send you to see them," the lady replied, making some notes on her pad. “You know, there's a shopping mall in Hawaii that's looking for a security expert. Let me call them and see if you're a fit with their operations."

Within two day's time, Staff Sergeant Cami Carter, HRM's Australian Army had become Miss Camille Ann Carter, civilian. It felt odd, not being in a war zone but the people that she had talked with assured her she was in a better situation now.

Cami was flown via commercial airlines, economy seating from Australia to Hawaii's Honolulu International Airport where she was assisted in getting to her temporary quarters. The man that helped her, a liaison for the Army, made sure she knew where to go for her interview the next day.

She remembered that job interview well; her future boss, Eugene Trask, had asked her at length about security measures and how to stop theft. He actually seemed more interested in her body, though. He had a hard time looking her in the eyes, preferring to stare at her breasts instead. They weren't that big, just 36B cups, but they seemed to fascinate Eugene to no end.

Mr. Trask hired her, setting her up with an all-black uniform, tactical boots and a baseball cap to wear that was sporting the words 'Mall Security' in bold letters. Her gear was simple; a radio, a composite baton, a can of mace, plastic quick-cuffs and a taser. Her job was to keep the things not paid for inside Kaneohe Bay Shopping Center. She worked with a young man, not over twenty, that was just a little too gung-ho to be a cop but would never be one, his eyesight being too poor without glasses.

Her fur was black with dark brown accents down the sides of her face and body so this garnered her the nickname of 'Bear' by one of the shop owners. She did have to admit that she had been mistaken for an ursine more than a few times. That shop owner seemed to be very friendly but the majority of the other shop owners and managers didn't care for her for some odd reason. She later learned that Hawaii was not a friendly state towards chimerae.

The children that came to the mall seemed fascinated with her, probably never in their young lives having been this close to a chimera. She would kneel down and shake their little hands or give them a hug, which seemed to really give the little ones a thrill. It was the parents that didn't seem too thrilled with her, though. One parent actually told her to go away and die somewhere. When Cami explained the fact that she was a decorated war veteran with an Honorable Discharge, the lady actually spit on her, telling her a synthetic animal couldn't be a veteran.

The pressure from the shop managers was just too much for Eugene to deal with so he eventually had to let her go after only a year of service. Knowing now that she couldn't stay in the apartment she rented, Cami bought a very used but serviceable one-ton Ford pickup with a camper on it. It was a bit cramped for her huge frame but it would serve adequately as her home. It had a small stove, a decent ice, propane or electric refrigerator and she could always go down to the beach and use the public showers to clean up.

***

“Miss Carter, could you clarify which brothel you worked in?" the man asked her after he walked up to her. He was putting another sticky note by the first one on her paperwork, waiting for her to answer.

“I worked at Absolutely Sinful, Sir." she replied. The man made a sour face in return, like that information was distasteful.

'So, how long were you there?" he inquired, making a note on her application.

“Just three months, right as it closed because of the fire, Sir."

“Mmm, OK, let me give your application to Randall Millard. He'll be out in a few minutes to get you for an interview."

“Thank you, Sir!" she said to be respectful, smiling at the thought of at least getting to talk with someone. If they couldn't employ her, maybe they knew who would.

She remembered her chance meeting with Regina Whiting, the manager of Absolutely Sinful. Cami had been down at the beach, cleaning up in the public showers when the red-headed lady had gotten her attention in the parking lot.

“Excuse me, Sweetie," she said softly, giving Cami a small smile.

“Um, do I know you?" the huge wolverine femme replied, letting the towel that she was using to dry her hair fall to her shoulders.

“No, you don't. I was going to say, are you looking for work?" Regina asked.

“Yeah, I was laid off at the mall," Cami told her dejectedly.

“That's what I thought. I haven't seen you there in a while." the petite female commented. “Well, I have work if you want it." she offered.

“And what kind of work would that be?" Cami inquired.

“Working at my brothel, honey." That made Cami look at the red-headed female strangely.

“Um, I might not be a good fit, Ma'am. I've never had sex with a man, to be honest about it." she pointed out.

“Well, if you're interested, come and see me," Regina told her, giving her a business card. “I can give you all the work you want."

Later that same day, Cami was standing in the lobby of Absolutely Sinful, waiting for Miss Whiting to make her appearance. The huge chimera had reviewed her finances again, noting she had four hundred twenty-two dollars in her checking account and just a little over two thousand left in her savings. Cami needed a job before her funds dried up so maybe this one would work out.

“Cami! I'm glad you came to see me!" Regina said cheerily as she herded the tall femme to her office. Offering her a cup of coffee, she had Cami sit down on the couch while she took out a clipboard with some paperwork on it. “I don't see what your past job experiences have to do with working here, so I just need a little information from you, that is if you're still interested in work."

“Yeah, I'm interested but like I said earlier, I'm not sure I'm a good fit here." Cami replied.

“Well, would you be interested in being a combination hostess and bouncer?" Regina asked. “You would have to dress in very revealing clothing and serve refreshments, besides ejecting the occasional rowdy or unruly customer."

“I think I could do that," Cami replied, getting that feral gleam in her eyes.

A chance to use her training again ...

She took the paperwork and filled it out for her new employer, thinking about the possibility of finally living in an apartment again.

Afterwards, Regina took the huge femme to the dressing area, checking the combination on a locker to make sure it worked.

“Here's a place to put your street clothes and purse or in your case, a backpack," the manager told her, giving Cami the combination to memorize. “Now let's get you dressed."

They went to a very large walk-in closet so Regina could pick out a few things that would fit her new hostess. She found a red satin bra and thong that would fit Cami, giving her the items to put on. While the huge chimera was changing, the boss found a matching bow tie that she had the tall chimera put on along with a pair of cuffs that looked like they belonged on a dress shirt. She then tied Cami's shoulder length dark brown hair back with a red satin ribbon, finishing the effect.

“Hmm, what size shoe do you wear?" the manager asked, looking down at a very big pair of feet.

“I wear a lady's size 13 US, Ma'am," was the reply.

“OK, here's a pair of five inch heel platform stiletto boots, dear. Sorry, it's all I have at the moment. Try them on and see if they fit you."

Cami put them on, finding them a bit small in the calf but other than that, they fit reasonably well. She stood up on her white patent leather boots shakily, now measuring right at six and a half feet tall.

“Oh ... My ... Gawd, will you look at yourself, Cami! You look very beautiful!" Regina blurted out. She went to a locked cabinet and opened it, removing a shoe box-sized black box that reminded Cami of a ammo can.

“This is your personal makeup, hon. Keep it locked up in your locker, please?" Regina asked as she handed it to the tall femme.

“Yes, Ma'am, I will," Cami replied, fishing out some red lipstick to go with her outfit. After she put a little light frost eye shadow around her eyes, she smiled at the new and improved Cami looking back at her in the mirror.

***

Cami noticed a female palomino-colored equine chimera getting off of the elevator, still buttoning up her blouse. That femme wore a collar and wrist bands, black with chrome studs on them. She wondered if that had anything to do with working here or if the chimera in question just liked leather. Cami was fairly sure that femme was either a Brandon 74 or an 87 by the hooves. Brandon was the only manufacturer she knew of that had created chimerae with hooves instead of feet. The lady that had given her the application had already retrieved her purse, so she left the building after the chimera equine took over for her.

Cami thought back to that day, the day she lost her second job and her meager home on wheels. It had been a long day and she was tired from working a twelve hour shift. Cami had began to service customers on the slow days just to earn a few extra dollars in tips and she found this to be quite exhausting. She had swapped out the sweaty clothes she had been wearing with a client for a white, long sleeved fishnet body stocking that was clean. It was very comfortable and cool, considering she probably needed her fur trimmed again.

“Hey! Fur-lady!" the client sitting on a couch in the lounge area shouted, waving her over to him. She wandered over, kneeling to see him eye-to-eye.

“My name is Cami, Sir," she said politely, smiling at him. By the smell of his breath, he was way over the limit on alcohol.

“OK, Cami furry lady, I need a drink. Scotch, please," he slurred out, smiling crookedly at her.

“Sir, I think you have had enough. Would you like some coffee on the house?" It was her job, after all to see that nobody left there intoxicated. She got up to get the client, a semi-regular, a cup of mud so the client grabbed her tail in return.

“Hey, fur-bitch! Don't walk away like that!" he shouted, tugging at her tail inappropriately.

“Sir, let go of my tail NOW!" she said in a strained voice, having been given permission by Regina to handle this situation in her own way.

“Hey, furry bitch! If you give me some sex, I'll ... UURRRKKKKK!" He was suddenly looking her square in the eyes while she glared at him with a feral gleam in her eyes. She had grabbed the front of his suit and shirt and hoisted him aloft to give him a verbal reaming.

“You listen here, Maggot! I've had just about enough of your crap this evening so I'll give you two choices; either you apologize to me and drink a few cups of coffee quietly to sober up or the coroner will be retrieving your mangled, dead body from our dumpster out back! Take your pick!"

“Hey, I was only kidding, Cami! I'm sorry, hon. I'll have some coffee, please?" he asked in a somewhat frightened tone.

She sat him back on his feet then went to get him a cup of their (in)famous Joe from the snack bar. The coffee urn out front was empty so she headed for the kitchen to get a fresh one. On her way, she heard a multitude of swearing and cursing coming from the food preparation area. The door burst open just as the fire alarm went off and the 'chef' staggered out the door with an empty fire extinguisher.

“Dammit! The store room's on fire!" he halfheartedly shouted, then began coughing heavily. Cami grabbed their cook under her arm and ran for the front lobby, making sure everyone was clearing out.

The Fire Department made good time in getting there but by the time they had arrived, the second story on that end of the building was fully engulfed. They fought a valiant fight with Mr. Conflagration, finally putting out the blaze. It was about that time Cami remembered her truck was parked out back behind that end of the structure, nosed up against the wall. She ran around the corner of the building only to stop in her tracks, totally stunned; her camper and truck didn't survive the fire.

The firemen were still putting out the truck's cab interior while another fireman checked the camper for hot spots. It was obvious that this rig was headed for the scrapyard.

“Cami? Are you OK?" Regina asked as she checked her hostess for injury.

“My ... home ..." The chimera was in shock; her whole life gone in moments.

One of the firemen came over to them, a regular at the brothel. He hugged Cami, noting how upset she looked.

“Howard, is the locker area burnt up?" Cami asked him quietly, knowing her most valuable things were in her locker. “All of my important paperwork is in there." she added, hoping those items weren't lost.

“No, we kept that from burning." he replied. That information seemed to cheer her up just a little. “If you'll tell me which locker is yours, I'll go get your things."

***

A middle aged man appeared from the hallway, looking around at the females that most likely worked here who were congregating in the lobby. He finally looked in Cami's direction, checking his paperwork before motioning for her to follow him.

“Hi, Camille. I'm Randall Millard," he told her, shaking her hand softly. “Follow me, I'll be interviewing you."

“Thank you, Sir," she replied politely, getting up and following him to an office down the hall.

“You can have a seat in that chair," he suggested, looking at his Blackberry to see what the message was. “Um, I have to go take care of a quick errand so I'll be back in a few minutes."

Cami looked over at the couch in his office, remembering the actions of the firefighters after they found out she was homeless. They took her back to the firehouse, allowing her to shower up and sleep on one of the couches in the rec room of the station.

Later that morning, Howard awoke to the smell of food being prepared. He was the resident cook so this totally confused him. Going out to the kitchen area, he found Cami cooking breakfast for them.

“Uh, Cami, this is my job," he pointed out, looking at the food she was preparing. There were some crepes, french toast and bacon prepared and Cami was doing pancakes and eggs at the moment.

“I know it is but I have to do something to pay all of you back for your generosity." she replied. “Um, I also have my clothes in your washer to get the smoky smell out of them." she added, pulling the towel she had covered up with tighter around herself.

The rest of the firefighters were following their noses into the kitchen area, grabbing plates so they could get some chow before it was gone. They were all amazed at her ability to cook a very filling and tasty breakfast for them.

“Cami, we can't let you stay here very long," Richard Miller, the Captain told her. “We'll do what we can to find some lodging for you."

“I don't have a job to pay for a room," she pointed out as she flipped some pancakes on the griddle.

“Well, let me see what I can come up with." the Fire Captain told her, giving her a polite hug. “You're a war vet so you deserve to have a place to live."

***

“Camille, would you mind coming with me? I want our medical staff to give you a once-over," Randall stated, looking at her paperwork again. “So, is your CPU replacement still holding OK?"

“Yes, Sir. I haven't had a problem with it," she replied as they went down to the infirmary.

There was a main area that seemed to be for the performers working here and a smaller area off to the side that was for more serious medical needs. They went through the main area to group of smaller exam rooms in back.

“You know, I should have had you come down here first," the hiring agent stated, putting her paperwork on a clipboard. “The technician will be with you in a minute."

While she waited to be examined, Cami remembered the generosity of the firemen, allowing her to stay for a few days. After that she knew she had to move on. A trip to a nearby sporting goods store netted her a bigger hiking backpack, A hooded windbreaker, some socks and a new pair of supportive hiking boots. Her purchases had depleted her checking account some but she knew she would have to move around or get arrested for vagrancy.

The fire station didn't have a problem with her cooking them an evening meal in exchange for a seat at the table so she only had to cover the costs of her own breakfasts. She had taken to collecting bottles and cans for the recycling money so every morning, she found herself making the rounds of an area not currently being scavenged before looking for steady work.

“Here you go, Miss," the man who ran the recycling facility said as he handed over her pay, twelve dollars and some change. She could get breakfast at a mom-and-pop diner down the way for about seven dollars so the rest would go back into her checking account. She had managed in a month's time to amass almost one hundred-fifty dollars to replenish her funds.

While she was headed to breakfast, a police car slid up to the curb just ahead of her and the two officers stepped out.

“Miss, could we talk with you?" the shorter of the two asked, motioning her over. Never one to go against authority, she followed their request.

“Good morning, officers. How may I help you?" she asked, smiling politely at them.

“Miss, we've had a report of a vagrant in the area." the taller one informed her. “Could we see some identification, please?"

Cami pulled off her pack, opening the top compartment to get her handbag out. She gave them her Driver's license along with a notarized copy of her ownership papers and her Honorable Discharge.

“Um, this might sound funny, but how much money do you have on you?" the shorter one asked after running her license for wants and warrants. “This is very important, Miss Carter."

“I have about one hundred dollars in cash on me, officer." she replied.

“Is that all?" the taller one asked.

“Um, no, Sir. I have three hundred and ten in my checking account and a little over two thousand in my savings."

“Robert, she isn't a vagrant by definition." the shorter one offered up. “She has plenty of money."

“Yeah, you're right, Mick. Hey, uh, it looks like she's a war vet," Robert pointed out once he recognized her paperwork.

“Miss Carter, you're not using false paperwork, are you?" Mick asked.

“No, Sir. I served in Afghanistan with the Australian Army, officer."

“Well, since you're a war vet, here's the deal," Mick told her as he handed her back her identification. “Keep at least fifty dollars on yourself at all times. That way you're not a vagrant. Don't sleep in the same place two nights in a row without permission from the property owner. Above all, keep up your cleanliness and neat appearance."

“If you need some help, give us a call." Robert offered up. “Here's our cell phone numbers, Miss Carter."

The officer gave her a business card with their numbers on it, then they excused themselves and went back on patrol.

***

“Miss Carter?" the technician queried as he came into the room.

“That's me, Sir," she replied, noting he was most likely from India by his accent.

“I'm Dr. Raj Patel, one of our senior Med-techs. Randall Millard asked me to give you a once-over." he said as he put on some nitrile exam gloves. “If you would please strip down to your birthday suit, we can get this over with quickly."

While she was being poked, prodded and generally examined by the medical technician, she thought back to the day she first met Alan Samick, owner of Samick Auto Parts. Cami had been in the alley behind his business, digging through the trash bins for bottles and cans. This morning hadn't been very productive since it looked like someone had been through there before her, leaving the dumpster for the restaurant across the alley rather empty of recyclables.

Sitting on an old shipping crate, she was lamenting her situation while she removed her rubber gloves she wore to rummage with.

“Excuse me? Miss?" the voice behind her said softly with a hint of kindness to it.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to loiter back here," Cami said quickly, getting to her feet.

“No, it's not that. I've seen you out here before, scavenging the bottle and cans." the graying male stated from the back doorway to his business. “I saw a group of people come through here earlier, beating you to the good stuff."

“That's what I thought," she said dejectedly. “I haven't found much in the last week." She hesitated to say more so the man asked a question.

“I guess you use that recycling money to eat on?" he asked as he leaned up against the door frame.

“Yes, Sir. I don't have a job right now."

“I could offer you a job but it's not much. I'm looking for somebody to clean up around here in the evenings. I can pay twenty-five dollars a night cash money to start." he suggested.

“When can I start?" Cami asked hopefully.

“Well, would you like to start tonight? I close the front doors at seven so you would have from seven until about eight-thirty when I leave to clean up the place." he offered.

“Okay, I'll be here at a quarter 'till seven." she told her new employer.

“Hmm, I don't know your name," he mused, smiling at her obvious excitement of having a job dropped in her lap.

“I'm Camille Carter but I prefer to be called Cami." she replied.

“Alright Cami, you can call me Alan." he said, trying to keep from smiling. “I'll see you tonight."

Cami made her rounds that day, excited over the prospect of making some extra money. Even the firemen noted her excitement as she quickly cooked their evening meal for them. She arrived back at the parts house at six forty-five, just as she promised. She found Alan in the back, truing up a set of disc brake rotors on a brake lathe.

“Cami, I'll be with you in just a minute," he said as he took one last cut on the rotor to finish his work. She stood by, watching him work with a skill and ease that spoke of many hours in front of that lathe. Finally finished, he motioned her over. “Let me walk you through the store, showing you what I need done," he said, guiding the tall chimera out front.

That first night took a little longer than they expected, since she didn't know where all the cleaning supplies were. The next couple of nights went faster though, allowing her to get a few extra things done.

“Uh, Cami, did you mop the floor?" he asked, looking at floor tile that hadn't been that color in a while.

“I had a half-hour left that I needed to do something." she explained. “I thought you might like a clean floor." she suggested.

“That is very nice," he said, pulling out her pay. “I don't expect you to do this every night, Cami. It's just an auto parts store, for crying out loud."

“OK, I'll mop the floor only if I have extra time," she suggested, thanking him for her nightly pay. She then cleaned herself up and left to find a place to sleep.

***

“You seem to be in excellent health, Miss Carter," Raj told her. “Please get dressed and I will escort you back to Mr. Millard's office."

She got dressed, then followed the technician back to the recruiter's office to wait again. She thought about the first night the local sheriff's deputy told her she couldn't sleep on the beach. He had made it clear that she was to stay away for at least a month before using the beach sparingly.

Not knowing where else to go at the moment, she went back to see if Alan had left his business already. Going around to the back of the shop, she observed to her dismay that all of the lights were out. Alan had given her a key to the back gate a few days earlier so she could let herself out after cleaning the place. Opening the gate, she went over to the area that the dumpster would normally occupy. Alan kept the trash bin by the back gate to avoid having to roll it out twice a week so that area was not occupied. Sweeping the debris away with an old broom that sat outside, she made herself as comfortable as possible and tried to go to sleep.

She tossed and turned, the hard ground making her have flashbacks to her time in Afghanistan. She finally awoke with a start, sure she was being watched. A movement out of the corner of her eye brought her attention that way. It was Alan, sitting on a crate, holding a cup of coffee and a small plate of donuts. He was smiling at her.

“You're homeless, aren't you?" he asked, bringing the snacks over to her.

“Yes, Sir. I've been on the streets for a month now." She admitted, then started to cry. “I lost my last home, a camper, in a fire at Absolutely Sinful, Alan."

“It's okay, Cami. You can stay back here if you need to," he told her, getting down on his knees to hug her and comfort her. “I can't let you stay inside because of that blasted alarm system the insurance company made me put in but you're welcome to stay back here. Nobody will bother you much, that's for sure."

***

Cami waited for Randall to reappear in his office again to interview her and possibly hire her. This place seemed very clean and the employees she had met were friendly enough. She had seen some females being led around by leashes, though. That kind of bothered her.

“Miss Carter, sorry for making you wait so long," Mr. Millard stated as he come into the room with her paperwork. “I've had some document issues to take care of." he told her.

“I don't mind," Cami told him, turning her chair so she could see him better.

“I've looked at your background and I see that you've worked at a brothel before." he commented. “I have several positions you could be hired for. What are you interested in, mostly?" he asked.

“I'm interested in making money, Sir." she replied. This was very important to her; make enough money so she wouldn't have to worry about where her next home would be.

“I would suggest you work as a performer, then. The base pay is $8.94 USD per hour but you can make up to $200 USD in tips per night. The average net pay is just over $1,000 USD per week."

“That sounds good," she commented, giving this some thought.

“You would also get free room and board along with free medical and dental." he offered. Randall then looked at his Blackberry, frowning just slightly. “sorry, I have to go see payroll again." he told her as he left the room quickly.

She smiled a wistful smile as she remembered setting up a place to sleep with Alan's approval. The appliance store supplied a very sturdy cardboard shipping carton that a upright freezer had been shipped from the states in. She took a pair of pallets from a grocery store that wouldn't mind if she had them to set the box on to keep it up off the ground. Some visqueen wrapped over the top of it kept her dry when it rained and an air mattress made it somewhat comfortable.

She lived like this for eleven months, hunting cans and bottles in the morning, cooking for the firemen in the evening, then cleaning up for Alan at night. She was still adding money to her checking account and occasionally transferring some to her savings. The downside was her things would be rifled through when she wasn't there and her good clothing that she had bought occasionally ended up missing.

One day, she was walking out of the little place she ate breakfast in when a man came up to her, giving her a flyer. It proclaimed she could find employment at a place called Blue Hawaii.

“Alan, take a look at this, please? Is this place real?" she asked that night.

“Um, yeah, it is," he replied, noting the name on the flyer. “You're not thinking of working there, are you?" he asked.

“Alan, I'm tired of sleeping on a leaky air mattress. I need a full-time job and I just can't seem to find one." she related to her evening boss.

“Well, if you really want to check it out, I'll take you over there in the morning. Tonight, you can come home with me and shower up, then wash your best things." he told her. “You'll probably be cramped on my recliner but you might still get a good night's sleep. You need to be rested to go look for work."

“Thanks, Alan," she offered, looking at the flyer again. “I really, really appreciate your help."

***

Randall came back into the room and sat down again, getting her paperwork straightened out. He then looked at her and smiled.

“I"m sorry this is taking so long," he offered up, bringing up the new employee form in his computer. “Do you think you might like to be a performer? That is where the best money is made."

“I think I might like that," she replied, trying to keep her excitement to herself.

“Alright, let's get you in the computer here and you'll be going to work tonight. You'll be assigned to Tigre, who will get you acquainted with our operation." Randall said as he began to get Cami's information entered. “I think you'll really like working here."

End

“Please read Trisha, Part 3 to see how Cami's story fits into the scheme of things - Kellan"